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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889135">Starving</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiaUrsula/pseuds/GiaUrsula'>GiaUrsula</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>1917 (Movie 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Forbidden Love, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Misguided Protective Brother, Multi, POV Jospeh Blake, POV Outsider, Period Typical Attitudes, Period Typical Bigotry, Period-Typical Homophobia, Regret, Religious Conflict, Requited Unrequited Love, Sad, Tom still dies, War, World War I</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:08:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiaUrsula/pseuds/GiaUrsula</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe Blake had always tried to be a good brother.<br/>He had always looked out for Tom. Naturally as an older brother that was a role expectant of him. But Joe knew Tom always needed a little more protecting than most. Joe can’t pinpoint the moment he began to realise Tommy was different to the other boys but once he did, he couldn't stop noticing.</p><p>But on the eve of war, Joe can't protect Tom. Not from the war and not from his own feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joseph Blake &amp; Tom Blake, Joseph Blake &amp; William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Starving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joe had always looked out for Tom.  </p><p>Naturally as an older brother that was a role expectant of him. But Joe knew Tom always needed a little more protecting than most. </p><p>Joe can’t pinpoint the moment he began to realise Tommy was different to the other boys. Visibly there was no indication of any invert behaviour. Tommy was vibrant yes but he wasn’t limp wristed and campy. He was just a normal lad. Extremely chatty yes but Joe found it endeared him to people, himself included though he would never tell him the lad that out of fear of a thick head. </p><p>Perhaps it was the lack of interaction with girls his age. As a child, he was boisterous and loud, often found trecking through the mud carelessly and chasing after the squirrels and pigeons. Girls were often easily spooked by that so there was no indication there was anything out of the ordinary there.  </p><p>Joe also supposed the age gap between them allowing Joe to see what Tom couldn’t was a big part of his early realisation. </p><p>Tommy was born to their mother when Joe was eleven. His arrival was certainly a surprise but he was loved the same as Joe was. Only by the time Tom came around, his mother was able to be much more attentive than she was with Joe. Their father passed when Joe was fourteen so Joe had missed out on a fatherly figure on his journey into manhood but Tommy barely remembered him at all. With their father gone, their mother was perhaps too gentle with Tom. Wouldn’t scold him as harshly or raise her voice as loudly with him as she did with Joe. </p><p>If Joe was truthful, a dirty accusation that her more gentle approach and their father’s demise was the cause of this rang loudly in his mind. He didn’t like to think his mother’s genuine intentions and their father’s unintentional absence were responsible but that was what the experts always said wasn’t it? Overly affectionate mother and absent father. </p><p>Joe tried to fill in the gaps their father left behind but he was left in an odd position of being halfway between a brother and a fatherly figure. By the time Tommy was starting school, Joe was on the docks helping their mother pay the bills. So Joe wasn’t young enough to be seen as a peer but too young to be considered authorative.  </p><p>Despite this, Joe would say he and Tom were close. They got along as well as any brothers would. Tom would come to him with his problems and Joe would try give the best advice he could, trying to toe the line between caring but still cool. </p><p>They would often roughhouse and fight with one another, but it was all in good jest. It was the way they were. The most affection Joe would allow himself to give Tom would be an arm thrown over his shoulder or the ruffling of his hair. He would always laugh when Tom would elbow him away for messing up the hairstyle he had spent so much time in the morning on.  </p><p>Without their father, Joe taught his brother all the milestones like shaving and telling him that <em> no </em> despite what the nuns taught them at school, wanking would <em> not </em> make him go blind. Joe expected Tom to ask his advice one day about girls but he never did. After all Joe himself had a fair bit of success, anyone could see he often had a different girl on his arm every other week. Their mother often tutted at him and asked when Joe would bring home a nice girl and Joe would always smirk and shrug his shoulders, not wanting to confirm her suspicion that it would take a while before Joe finished sowing his oats. </p><p>But Tom never did. </p>
<hr/><p><em> ‘’It’s not natural.’’ Joe probed, as his mother stirred the pot of stew made from the scraps of Sunday's meal, ‘’A boy his age should be chasing after lasses.’’ </em> </p><p><em> She shook her head at him and laughed, ‘’You know the way Tom is. He’s just shy.’’ </em> </p><p><em> Joe was tempted to let her find strength in that. It wasn’t entirely wrong. Tom did struggle talking to girls his own age. But he had to wonder... </em> </p><p><em> ‘’Is it that he’s shy or that he doesn’t want to?’’ </em> </p><p><em> She turned to him sharply, her stern brow and locked jaw evoking a dreadful feeling that was the wrong thing to say. </em> </p><p><em> ‘’Don’t you dare bring accusations like that in this house.’’ she whispered lowly, her keen eyes locked on the door, cautious of Tom’s arrival from school. </em> </p><p><em> ‘’It’s just your brother’s way.’’ she told him firmly, ‘’It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him.’’ </em> </p><p><em> Joe remained quiet, aware nothing he could say would persuade her otherwise. </em> </p><p><em> She huffed at the lack of response, outrage making her hands shake as she pointed at him, ‘’Just because he doesn’t jump into every tart’s bed like you do, it doesn’t make him a pervert!’’ </em> </p><p><em> Her hands smoothed down the front of her dress as she took a moment to gather herself. The bubbling of the pot drew her attention and she began to stir once again. </em> </p><p><em> ‘’Tom is a romantic, that’s all.’’ she told him, incapable of looking at him, ‘’One day he’ll meet a girl and it’ll be love at first sight and then he’ll never shut up about her. Just you wait.’’ </em> </p>
<hr/><p>Joe had never broached the subject to her after that. He hadn’t even believed it all that much himself when he suggested it. More of an unexplained feeling. Joe had gone in circles trying to justify it all. Perhaps he was projecting. Maybe Tom would one day overcome his tight-lipped nature around women and fall madly in love and Joe would laugh about the ludicrous suspicion to himself as he stood at the altar with Tommy as his bride came to him glowing. </p>
<hr/><p>Joe had slipped away from the bustle of the pub by slipping into the garden. He and a few of the other local lads had been celebrating like the world was ending. </p><p>Tomorrow Joe would be shipped out to defend his country. He would fight for King and country with his best mates by his side and they would defeat the Kaiser and return home in glory. </p><p>While he was caught up in the jubilations of the celebrations, he needed a moment to himself. He let the smoke blow from his lips as he sat on the bench of the beer garden. He remembered sitting on his father’s lap, Tom not even a conceivable thought, watching all the men gather round as his father told them stories from his own war in the Africa’s. Joe never thought he could worship his father as much as he did in that moment. The way his children would listen reverently to his own stories one day. </p><p>Perhaps even in the same beer garden. </p><p>His attention was caught by the sudden appearance of Tom by his side. He huffed and budged up on the bench to leave room for his brother to sit by his side. </p><p>‘’So ya leaving tomorrow.’’ Tommy stated, seemingly with nothing else to say. </p><p>Joe took another a puff from his cigarette, ‘’Yes.’’ </p><p>He was rather amazed Tom could look so quiet. </p><p>‘’I tried to enlist the other day but they wouldn’t let me.’’ </p><p>Joe smirked, ‘’You’re too young.’’ </p><p>‘’John down the road is the same age as me and they took him on.’’ Tom pouted. </p><p>‘’Did you tell them your age?’’ </p><p>‘’Well yeah.’’ </p><p>Joe openly laughed at him. For such a smart lad, Tom really could be dense sometimes. </p><p>‘’That’s why. John probably lied.’’ </p><p>Tom frowned, ‘’Everyone said they took on lads younger than 18.’’ </p><p>‘’Yes but that’s because they actually made an effort to lie about their age.’’ </p><p>Tom brought his knees up to his chest looking a little embarrassed, ‘’Oh. Right.’’ </p><p>Joe openly laughed at him now. Warmly enough not to be too mocking. </p><p>‘’Shut up!’’ Tom moaned, pushing at him, not hard or strong enough to actually move him which only made him go redder. Joe merely tussled his hair, even as Tom’s protesting hand batted it away. </p><p>‘’Probably best you aren’t going anyway. Need someone to look after mum while I’m gone. You can do that right?’’ his tone was more serious than what he intended but it needed to be said. </p><p>Tommy’s face softened and he nodded, looking more solemn than Joe had seen him in a while. </p><p>‘’Yeah, course.’’ </p><p>Joe nodded, accepting this. </p><p>‘’It’s time you became more of a man anyway.’’ he told him, a touch too harshly, ‘’Get yourself a proper job, settled down...’’ he hesitated, looking Tom straight in the eyes, ‘’... a girl.’’ </p><p>Tom scoffed, ‘’What, like you? Different one every night?’’ </p><p>Joe shook his head and moaned, ‘’No not like me. Just get yourself the one girl and that’ll be enough Tom.’’ </p><p>Tommy went quiet, staring down at his feet and it unnerved him. Typically Joe couldn’t get him to shut up on a normal day but now he became unusually tight lipped. He stared at him, on edge to think what he would say next. </p><p>Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times clearly on the edge of saying something but incapable of saying exactly what he was thinking. </p><p>But Joe decided he didn’t want to know what he couldn’t say. If he couldn’t say it then Joe couldn’t hear it. If he didn't say it then nothing changed. Tom was still Tom and Joe could go to war happy that his brother was safe. </p><p>Joe pulled him closer and rested his chin on top of his head, probably the most affectionate he had been with Tommy in a while. He felt his younger brother lean into the protective hold. </p><p>‘’I know you can do this Tom.’’ he whispered. </p><p>He had said it so quietly he wasn’t sure Tom had heard. He felt the nodding notion of his head beneath him and Joe let out a shaky sigh of relief. </p><p>‘’You’ll be alright.’’ he assured him as he stared above at the stars above him, registering the cold of the night and the sounds of the gentle winds. The way he could see the exhales of air from Tom beneath meet the air with every breath he took. It was oddly soothing and Joe took comfort in the moment that his brother would be safe without him here. </p>
<hr/><p>War was nothing like Joe had pictured. </p><p>Any glory had was short-lived and hardly worth the price.  </p><p>It wasn’t glorious to freeze in the trenches. To feel the dirt and sweat and blood cake his skin and be unable to wash it away.  </p><p>It wasn’t glorious to watch new recruits arrive just as wide-eyed as he once had only to watch them cry out for their mothers as they bled out. </p><p>It wasn’t glorious to be incapable of sleep, jumping at every noise and be surrounded by death. Not just by the corpses of the soldiers less fortunate than himself but the tension in the air that never left. The invisible hood and scythe following him even when he had nothing to do. The idea that a bullet could come from anywhere at any time. The fear that one day he would be swallowed in that hideous poisonous gas and have his lungs shot to bits like the other poor souls who were too slow. Or worse, be captured and taken away never to be seen again, no one knowing what happened to you but God himself. </p><p>The experience had ripped apart the memories he held of his father. He felt his betrayal the most. The man led him to believe war was like the tales of Arthur and his knights and he would find glory, unlock the essence of what it meant to be a man and fight for God, King and Country. </p><p>Did his father tremble as he did? Did his father feel dread as he did? Did he wonder whether a bullet from his own gun would best that from one of the other side? Did his father lose his soul just to lie to him? To lead him to this place beyond Hell and Earth. </p><p>Even worse than that, Joe’s own stupidity had led Tom to be fed the same delusions of war.  </p><p>Joe feared for Tom’s soul more than his own. Joe’s had been sold down the river long ago. His singular hope that Tom’s soul could remain untainted had been snatched from him and now his baby-faced brother was trawling the dirty, bloody trenches of France when he should have been at home. </p><p>In his letters Tom appears cheerful, although Joe is more than aware of their censorship. So it was rather difficult to gage how true this was. He gave Joe updates of his movements. Told him as much as he could without being consequential should the letters fall into enemy hands. Joe wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry that it took entering a war for his brother to master the art of subtlety.  </p><p>The name Schofield had appeared rather early on in his letters. Tom spoke of him briefly at first. Mentioning a somewhat older man who kept much to the side-lines and didn’t seem to socialise much. The observation made Joe laugh. It was much in Tom’s nature to want everyone come together and have a good time. The boy would never allow for stragglers and it was always a great kindness in his brother that he admired. </p><p>Tom’s eventual succession in getting Schofield to say more than two words amused him. He imagined his brother following this poor man around like a trailing puppy talking excitedly not giving him a moment’s peace and the imagery felt so close to home it almost hurt.  </p><p>At first, mentions of Schofield led to little anecdotes and stories that seemed to indicate Tom had made a real friend and it brought Joe comfort that he had someone there to take care of him. He worried for his ability to stay safe and to keep his spirits high. Joe had mastered staying safe as well as he could, but he had no one to keep his spirits high. He supposed that Tom’s bright and youthful nature inspired a protective response in Schofield. Joe could admit as one of the older soldiers that he often found himself watching the younger soldiers like ducklings. Maybe because it gave him something to do, maybe because they somehow reminded him of Tom, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t close to any of them as Tom appeared to be to Schofield. </p><p>The reassurance of Tom having a guardian gradually morphed to a point of concern. Mentions of Schofield weren’t just a small portion of the letter. They became the central focus and anything else seemed to be dictated as after thoughts. There were stray remarks Tom would make about Schofield that didn’t quite sit right with him. Remarks about how strong Schofield was. How tall he was. How brave he behaved. How Schofield’s wife must have been missing him. </p><p>Alone the comments seemed innocent but something about their consistency and ardency itched at Joe. The admiration tipped the scales into being something more... inappropriate. </p><p>For a wild moment of inspection, he replaced the name Schofield with Mary and re-read the quotes that bothered him most. </p><p>
  <em><b>Mary</b> acts like a stroppy get most of the time but I know<b> she</b> likes me really. <b>She</b> would tell me to go away if<b> she</b> didn’t. </em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>Mary</b>’s much stronger than <b>she</b> looks. I always forget that because <b>she’s</b> so tall but then I’ll turn around and <b>she’ll</b> have done two by the time I’ve finished one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wonder if <b>her husband</b> misses <b>her</b>. It’s probably hard for <b>him</b> being without <b>her</b>. </em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>Mary</b> needs to smile more.<b> She</b> looks much better when <b>she</b> does. </em>
</p><p>They weren’t damning but he couldn’t reach any conclusion that didn’t make an uncomfortable weight settle on his stomach. </p><p><em> ‘’One day he’ll meet a girl and it’ll be love at first sight and then he’ll never shut up about her. Just you wait.’’ </em> </p><p>He hoped to god his mother was right. </p>
<hr/><p>Somehow in all of this, the stars had aligned and the two of them had leave for home with an overlapping week. </p><p>Joe’s unit had managed to return quicker than Tom’s. He was in the back garden inspecting their mother’s cherry trees when without warning, he felt a heavy weight land on his back and wild hands covering his eyes. </p><p>‘’Guess who!’’ Someone yelled loudly in his ear and Joe knew who it was immediately and he couldn't stop the smile on his face. </p><p>He wrangled his brother off his back and Tom stood in front of him. </p><p>Instantly it struck Joe how different he looked. He had lost his puppy fat and in its place were firm, lean muscles. His face had become more sculpted but even now there was still a round and ruddy cheeked aspect that stubbornly held on. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought his brother might have even grown an inch in height. </p><p>He grabbed his brother and held him tightly, probably too tight but something in Joe needed to confirm he was actually here. That he was solid and real. </p><p>‘’Careful Joe!’’ His brother laughed, even sounding a little winded, ‘’I’ll be sent back with a broken rib!’’ </p><p>Joe held on, treasuring that precious laugh for as long as he could as the corpses of boys younger than Tommy flashed in his mind’s eye. </p>
<hr/><p>Later in the night their mother retreated to bed as much as she had valiantly tried to keep up with Tommy and Joe as they drank and joked at the table. </p><p>After the second time, she had snored with her head leaning on the table, the boys had demanded she go upstairs. She only did so when Tom jokingly told her they would be here when she woke up in the morning. The joke landed well but it still brought a churning sensation in Joe’s stomach that there was a chance one day they wouldn’t be. </p><p>Joe relaxed and laughed at Tom’s tale of the soldier in his platoon who had managed to get his ear chewed off by a trench rat. </p><p>‘’He did not!’’ Joe laughed behind his hand. </p><p>‘’He did!’’ Tom declared proudly, banging the table with his fist as he did, ‘’Worst part was it was so thick, he couldn’t wash this shit out. Stunk for weeks!’’ </p><p>Joe wheezed, fanning at his teary eyes as he laughed.  </p><p>Tom had always had a magnetism about him and a way of telling stories. He’d always had the confidence and the way of drawing people in. Much like their father was. Their laughter died down and Tom looked considerate for a moment before smiling. </p><p>‘’I haven’t told Scho that one yet. I’ll have to remember to. He’ll probably like it.’’ </p><p>Joe’s laughter cut abruptly at the mention of Schofield and he covered with a cough, ‘’So erm... Schofield...’’ he began, ‘’Is he on leave too?’’ </p><p>Tom twisted his mouth and frowned, ‘’No actually. Said he didn’t want it.’’ </p><p>‘’Who would miss the chance to go home?’’ </p><p>Tom shrugged and sat back in his seat, ‘’Fuck knows. He’s a funny bugger sometimes Will, no telling what’s going on with him.’’ </p><p>He hesitated. </p><p>‘’You erm, you mention him a lot.’’ Joe broached. </p><p>His brother stilled for a moment as he met his eyes. He seemed to grasp there was a question behind that. Some need for an explanation. </p><p>Tom smiled nervously, ‘’Well ya know. He’s a mate, ain’t he?’’ </p><p>Joe nodded as he thought whether it was worth it to ask. Whether he would actually get the answer he wanted if he did. </p><p>‘’You never did find a girl while I was away, did ya?’’ </p><p>Tom’s face hardened. He scoffed and shook his head at him, clear irritation on his face. </p><p>‘’Doesn’t matter that I did everything else, does it? Doesn’t matter that I got a job. Doesn’t matter that I was the one who looked after mum after you fucked off to France!’’ </p><p>‘’Tommy you’ve never had a girl.’’ he interrupted in a low voice, ‘’You’re nearly twenty and you’ve never been with a girl.’’ </p><p>Tom rose from his chair with anger, ‘’I’ve been to war two sodding years, where’d you expect me to meet a lass there? Should I fuck the Kaiser’s wife while I’m shooting at his men, hmm? Is that what you want?’’ </p><p>‘’I just want-’’ Joe sighed, the frustration of the situation getting to him, ‘’I just want you to be happy. I want you to be safe.’’ </p><p>His brother scoffed, ‘’I’m at war Joe. Safe isn’t an option.’’ </p><p>Tom paced the room and Joe swallowed down bile as he spoke. </p><p>‘’War isn’t the only thing that could get ya killed Tommy.’’ </p><p>The boy’s blue eyes turned to him sharply and Joe held his gaze firmly. He needed him to understand. Tom shook as he stood, clambering back to his seat as his shaking legs became incapable of supporting him. He stared at the deep varnish of the wooden table in front of them. </p><p>‘’I know it... it ain’t right. The way I feel...’’ he put forth in a whisper, tearful eyes blinking up at him.  </p><p>Joe was tired. He was so tired. He had gone in circles trying to avoid leading the two of them both to this road. Giving Tom every prod and poke he could in the right directions. From his birth to their father’s death to the war. Joe had tried to protect him from something that had clung to him from childhood and refused to let go. </p><p>‘’But Joe, it feels right.’’ he gasped, close to sobs. </p><p>‘’He’s married. He has children.’’ Joe scolded, disgust barely hidden in his voice. </p><p>‘’I know that.’’ </p><p>‘'You could be put against a wall and shot!’’ he gritted through his teeth. </p><p>‘’I’m not stupid!’’ Tom spat back, ‘’I haven’t done anything. He doesn’t... he doesn’t even know how I feel and he...’’ something in his shoulders slumped, his voice quietened, ‘’... he never will.’’ </p><p>‘'He’ll never know.’’ he finished lamely. Tom’s eyes shimmered with tears and Joe had to look away from them. He couldn’t face them right now. Couldn’t face the absurdity of the situation. </p><p>‘’Have you ever... have you ever even tried? With a woman.’’ Joe asked, feeling a little angry that his suspicions that he had for so long harboured and tried to ignore were all true. </p><p>That question prompted the first tear to fall down Tom’s pale cheek. His lip quivered and he brought his hand up to his chin to cover it uselessly. </p><p>‘’Tess McDonald.’’ He said plainly, ‘’I kissed her when I was fifteen and it felt like... nothing. Just nothing. Maybe even a bit sick.’’ </p><p>‘’Oh come on now!’’ Joe objected, now actively chagrined by his brother’s exaggeration. </p><p>‘’It’s true!’’ Tom confessed, slamming his fist down aggressively on the table, the sound of it loud and vibrating enough that they looked to the stairs fearfully, suddenly aware of their mother sleeping upstairs.  </p><p>Tom’s anger dissipated, the fear from before returned to his eyes but his passion remained resolute, ‘’I’m not lying to you like I lied to her. Like I lied to myself that it would only take time.... that it would only take the right girl.’’  </p><p>Joe felt the sincerity of his words and he paused staring deep into his eyes feeling as though he was truly seeing his brother for the first time and it frightened him to think his heart hardened at the sight. </p><p>‘’I just... I don’t understand.’’ Joe told him stiffly. </p><p>Tom’s eyes filled with despair, ‘’Please don’t hate me.’’ </p><p>Truthfully Joe did hate him. He hated what he couldn’t understand. He hated that Tom was too weak to shake this off and give their mother the family she deserved. To live the life he ought to and not one that would lead to gossip and ruin. </p><p>Joe equally loved his brother as much as he hated him. If Joe considered it properly, he didn’t hate Tom. Just his affliction. The torment it would put him through. The danger and condemnation he would face in this life and the next. </p><p>He had taken too long to answer because he didn’t know how to answer. The silence filled the room. Joe couldn’t bear to look at him. He took was shaking as Tom was but he hid his hands beneath the table like a coward. </p><p>Joe heard his brother stand. He didn’t say another word as his weight shifted the wood beneath his feet as he climbed the stairs, the movement thudding and pathetic. </p><p>That night Joe prayed to a God he’d stopped believing in to protect a brother he had lost hope for. </p>
<hr/><p>‘’All right, come on, boys.’’ he instructed to the stretch bearers holding another unfortunate fallen man, ‘’He’s taken one in the leg. He’s lost a lot of blood.’’ </p><p>They chorused back their expectant <em>Yes sirs</em> as they did as they were told and carried him away. Joe didn’t let his eyes linger. He didn’t want to remember the face of another man who would probably be dead by morning. </p><p>‘’Lieutenant Blake?’’ a weary voice called out, drawing him from his thoughts. </p><p>Joe turned to see a rather timid looking man covered in soot, dirt and possibly blood looking rather worse for wear. But then who wasn’t here? </p><p>‘’Yes?’’ he answered impatiently, quickly realising he wasn’t one of their own. </p><p>When the man stared at him, almost astonished like, the action drew resentment of all the fresh face recruits who did the same.  </p><p>‘’Do you need medical assistance?’’ Joe asked roughly. </p><p>‘’No sir.’’ He answered, breathless, ‘’I’m from the 8th.’’ </p><p>He frowned, ‘’What the hell are you doing here?’’ </p><p>His suspicions drew. </p><p>The 8th division. </p><p>That was Tom’s unit. </p><p>‘’I was sent here to deliver a message.’’ the man answered, not reacting much to Joe’s hostility or the quick stride he engaged as he came closer to him. </p><p>‘’The 8th? You must know my brother.’’ Joe tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. </p><p>‘'I was sent here with him.’’ </p><p>Relief flooded Joe. It had been many months and many nights spent in regret of what was said that one night while on leave. Their relationship had suffered and hadn’t recovered before they were sent back. </p><p>Joe knew he hadn’t reacted to well to his brother’s confessions of feelings for Schofield and he had let his brother think he hated him. It shook him to the core and it took seeing more and more young men whose youthful glint resembled his dear brother to be snuffed out beneath him for him to realise that a perverted brother who could be fixed with time and help would always be better than a dead one. </p><p>Besides he had ultimately been preparing for this their entire lives. Joe could handle it now. He could get Tom the help he needs after the war and his brother could be happy. He could find a wife and their children would play together under their mother’s cherry trees and it would be in a world where their children would be safe from war and no one would have to die anymore.   </p><p>If his brother was here, he could finally say what he couldn’t say in their letters. He could tell his brother that he could never hate him. That he loved him and that they could both be happy if they just got through this for a little while longer. </p><p>‘’Tom’s here?’’ he smiled, looking around him, ‘’Where is he?’’ </p><p>But as his eyes trailed around, they stopped dead on the expression of the soldier in front of him and Joe’s heart clenched. It shattered into pieces around him on the floor and he couldn’t do anything but keep staring into this man’s hopeless eyes as if he would suddenly correct him. </p><p>‘’It was very quick.’’ the tone was gentle and assuring but it still felt like a stab to the gut, ‘’I’m sorry.’’ </p><p>It was all gone. It was all for nothing. </p><p>This great and glorious war had taken his brother. His baby brother. His little Tommy who he had sworn to protect his entire life.  </p><p>His brother who died believing Joe hated him. </p><p>The man reached into his pocket and gave him Tom’s rings. The small dirty metal made a loud clink as they were dropped into his expecting palm.  </p><p>For a moment he just stared at them. A life of only twenty years and all that was left behind was worthless metal that carved cannons and guns and bombs and all things that killed. </p><p>It was a mockery that these would be the only rings he would ever wear, none of them blessed in the house of the lord. </p><p>His eyes went back to the man in front of him. He noticed suddenly how tall he was. How his hair must have been blond underneath that dirt and blood. He remembered that he was from the 8th division and that he had came with Tom and probably held him while he died and the need to know who this man was burned him. </p><p>‘’What’s your name?’’ Joe asked, sounding much more calm than he felt. </p><p>‘’Schofield, sir.’’ he said, giving Joe the answer he suspected but didn’t want to hear. </p><p>At first he couldn’t meet his eye. This was the man who his brother would have sold his soul for. The man who filled his head with sinful thoughts and unnatural lust. </p><p>The man his brother claimed he loved. </p><p>‘’Sorry, what?’’ Joe blurted, not quite believing this could be the very man right in front of him. </p><p>‘’It’s Schofield, sir.’’ the blond repeated. He was patient with Joe as his brows furrowed at him in pity and Joe felt choked by the words on a page that had described him as kind and caring. As dashing and brave and just that little bit awkward and withdrawn. </p><p>‘’William Schofield.’’ He elaborated, ‘’Will.’’ </p><p><em> Will </em> he had added. </p><p>As if he knew that was the name Joe would know him by because that would be the name Tom had given him. As if he knew how devotedly Tom had written in his name in every letter. As if he knew how much the mere mention of his name had haunted him and filled him with dread for so long. As if the name of the phantom would make it appear before him just as monstrous as he imagined. </p><p>But this man was not monstrous. </p><p>He was tired and hurt and he still managed to be kind. He still managed to be patient and polite and Joe almost wanted to scream at him for disallowing him the right to be deserving of his furious onslaught. </p><p>But Joe was also tired and hurt and the weariness made him still. </p><p>‘’Well you need some food. Get yourself to the mess tent.’’ Joe choked before he looked away. Those kind eyes threw unknowing accusation at him. They taunted him. </p><p><em> I was the man your brother loved. Yes loved. Because now you can see why he loved me. Why he would die for me. Why he did die for me. </em> </p><p>The man began to walk from him but he stopped for a moment and with it so did Joe’s heart, gripped in dread and anticipation. </p><p>‘’If I may,’’ Schofield began because Joe refused to know him as Will, ‘’I’d like to write to your mother. Tell her that Tom wasn’t alone.’’ </p><p>Joe nodded to the request before he could even think of rejecting it. He no longer felt the endless fury at this man for poisoning this brother. Only the final understanding that he played no more of a hand in it than Tom did. </p><p>‘’Of course.’’ </p><p>Schofield came closer once again, as if moved by a compulsion to say what couldn’t be left unsaid and the last time that had happened in Joe’s life, his brother had left him in tears. </p><p>‘’He was... he was a good man.’’ </p><p>Joe nodded, hadn’t stopped since Schofield had started talking. The movement was strangely good at keeping him rooted and stopped the tears fully coming so he kept doing it. </p><p>‘’Always telling funny stories. He saved my life.’’ </p><p><em> ’'Tom is a romantic, that’s all.’’ </em> </p><p>His mother’s words harkened back to him at that moment. What was more romantic than dying for love? </p><p>‘’I’m glad you were with him.’’ Joe told him firmly.  </p><p>It was true. Strange and raw as this all felt, he had seen many men die long and die agonisingly without anyone by their side. Schofield had told him Tom had died quickly and he had died comforted by the man he loved. There wasn’t many who were fortunate enough to get that. </p><p>He held out his hand and the man dutifully took it, ‘’Thank you Will.’’ </p><p>It only lasted a moment before Joe released him. He stared after the man as he wearily walked away and sat under a tree. </p><p>Joe almost wanted to go after him. Talk to him longer. Demand answers. </p><p><em> Did you know my brother loved you? Did you love him back? Will my Tom be in Hell right now and is that your fault? </em> </p><p>Someone called his name and demanded his attention and once more he felt his soul tear at the bitterness he felt towards war. Even now, even when his whole life felt like it had collapsed and he couldn’t breathe, the world still spun and the violence carried on and duty ripped him away. </p><p>He stared after Schofield once last time feeling as if the last thread of who Tom was and who he’ll ever be was falling away from him pathetically and he could make no move to grab it. This man who was such a stranger yet more pivotal than he may ever know. </p><p>‘’Lieutenant Blake!’’ </p><p>The call was answered and the thread was cut. </p>
<hr/><p>It was years later when Joe met Schofield once more. </p><p>A whole decade after Tom’s death precisely. </p><p>Tom’s death had crippled his mother and she had never quite recovered from ill health. His father’s lonely tombstone now had the company of both his mother and his brother.  </p><p>He came to lay flowers for them both but not for his father. He couldn’t. Seeing his engraved name next to Tom’s made him want to rip the cold stone out of the ground. If that man hadn’t fed Joe’s head with stories of glory and victory then Joe might never have gone to France. Might never have lost his soul and then his brother. His lies led to Tom’s name being right next to his own when it should have been Joe’s. </p><p>His wife Anne had wanted to come along but he told her to stay at home and stay with the baby Tommy. He didn’t deserve love but Anne had convinced him to take hers anyway.  Tom had deserved love and he never gotten it. At least not as it should have been. Anne’s love was nurturing and consuming. As much as Joe had tried not to get caught up in it, he had been powerless to stop it. He often wondered if that was how it felt for Tom but his gut often twisted at the idea of how fearful he would have felt. </p><p>He couldn’t imagine being scared to love Anne or how lonely it would be to feel it without reciprocation. </p><p>His crunched steps on the rain frosted grass of the cemetery slowed as he saw a hunched figure close to Tom’s grave. The figure was tall and the back of his head was covered with a brown hat but Joe could see the faint blond hidden beneath. </p><p>Joe supposed he should have been surprised but he only came closer. Not saying a word and waiting for Will to notice him. </p><p>Eventually Will looked to him and nodded a greeting. He watched Joe place the flowers on both graves, tactfully not pointing out the lack of bunches for his father. </p><p>For a moment they just stood there silently staring at the engraved names as if staring at them would summon their spirits. </p><p>‘’Did you know?’’ Joe asked. This was the first time he had seen Will since the day he had lost his brother. The solitary letter he had written his mother never had a return address. The chance to know was too elusive to let go.</p><p>If Will was surprised, he didn’t show it. Didn’t even take his eyes off the grave in front of them. </p><p>‘'Yes.’’ he eventually answered. </p><p>Joe nodded accepting this and afraid to ask further but he needed to know. </p><p>‘’Was my... was my brother alone in his affections?’’ </p><p>Will finally looked at him, almost as weary as he did that day. He smiled weakly, ‘’He believed he was.’’ </p><p>‘’Why didn’t you tell him?’’ Joe demanded, too caught up in the idea of his brother’s misery to remember too late of a wife and children that existed. </p><p>At that Will laughed, a little bitter and a little sad. His eyes teared a little. </p><p>‘’Why place food in front of a starving man just to tell him he can’t eat.’’ He put simply. </p><p>Joe almost wanted to protest at the comparison, likening his brother’s feelings to something primal and carnal but once he considered it, Will was right.  </p><p>Tom had spent his entire life wanting what he couldn’t have, trying to make himself feel what he couldn’t and trying to ignore what he did feel. Even when he loved the man stood beside Joe, he probably had to live on scraps of whatever affection he could get. Re-reading Tom’s letters always made Joe see the longing Tom held close to his chest. At the time Joe attributed it to Tom’s way of being overly talkative of mundane topics but now he knew the truth, he saw Tom as a scavenger, taking what pieces of Will he could get and treasuring them. </p><p>He was so young and so far from home. He was a boy who fell in love with a man who had a wife and children and Joe had judged him for it. Made him feel scared and alone and disgusting. </p><p>It was only now Joe who realised he was the one who had been disgusting and would be for the rest of his life. </p><p>‘’They say Germany are acting up again.’’ Joe remarked. </p><p> ‘’The war to end all wars.’’ Will mocked and the bitterness that seeped through the words perfectly mirrored his own. </p><p>‘’I might see you back out there.’’ </p><p>Will looked at him considering, ‘’Maybe.’’ </p><p>‘’I might end up here.’’ </p><p>It took another pause before he answered. </p><p>‘’Maybe.’’ </p><p>Those were the last words Joe ever spook to Will and it was when Will was on his deathbed forty years later, he wondered whether Joe ever did join his brother. </p>
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